


We're Atomicos, Not Atomickers. Don't Be Ridiculous.

by gala_apples



Series: An Alphabet of Teen Wolf Crossovers [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The OC
Genre: Cosplay, Crossover, F/M, Fanboys - Freeform, Fangirls, M/M, Polyamory, Pre-Poly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1935357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times liking Atomic County got Stiles laid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Atomicos, Not Atomickers. Don't Be Ridiculous.

**Author's Note:**

> No knowledge of The OC is needed for this, besides the fact that Seth Cohen and Zach wrote a comic book about superheroes in high school. The animated series does not exist in this 'verse.

“Stiles, I’m bored.”

Stiles doesn’t look up from where he’s sprawled on his belly on his bed. There is no gesture or facial expression that Scott could be making now that Stiles hasn’t seen a thousand times. “Read a comic. Any comic. If it gets confusing I can summarise basic plot lines for you.”

“I don’t want to read a comic, I want to go outside and play something.”

Stiles snorts. Not because Scott sounds like a five year old at daycare, Stiles gets that he means lacrosse or ultimate frisbee, not sandcastles at the nearest park. He snorts because Scott is fucking delusional. “Dude, we’ve played Werewolf Strength Training like every day this summer. If you didn’t want to read a comic you shouldn’t have come over on comic release day.”

“Didn’t you buy it like first thing this morning? I was at summer school all morning, you had like three hours.”

“One does not simply walk into Mordor, Scott.” At Scott’s blank stare Stiles continues. “When you buy a new issue you first need to read the other issues to freshen it in your mind. If I hadn’t I wouldn’t currently be impressed by the continuity of the interior design of Mistress Widow’s mansion. The picture frames are in the _right order_ , Scott.”

“Oh my God,” Scott groans. He clearly doesn’t appreciate the importance of continuity errors. He didn’t even flip out when Stiles showed him the gas canister in Gladiator. How do you reason with a guy like that?

“You have thirty seconds to state a reasonable complaint, and then I‘m putting headphones on and straight up ignoring you.” Ultimatums, that’s how.

“How about a deal?” Scott offers.

“Go on.” Stiles is the shit at gambling. He could totally pay for university with his illegal winnings, if it wasn’t already taken care of with his mom’s life insurance.

“I’ll read issue one if you put down issue whatever and fool around with me.”

Stiles boggles. Did he hit his head in the gaming store? Has he fallen into a coma? “What? Since when are you bi? Because it might have been cool for you to tell me when I told you.” 

“Do I have to be bi to want to fool around with you?”

Okay, now this is serious enough to close his comic and put it on the stack on the floor. He sits up, even. “You do remember I have a penis, right?”

“I’ve spent the entire summer trying to not think about her, but I only have so much alternative jerking off fodder. It gets hard. Shut up,” Scott says before Stiles can crack a joke about the choice of words. “It gets difficult.”

“So you’d rather touch my dick than download new porn?”

Scott sighs. “You don’t have to.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. He knows he doesn’t have to. Duh. He also knows that he was kind of hoping for this when he told Scott in the middle of freshman year. The reciprocity is a bit late, and also a lot more ex girlfriend based than he would have guessed, but whatever. At this point it’s hardly a surprise that Scott sees things through Allison-tinted glasses.

“Read issue one within a week. Also, how do you feel about blowjobs? Because I think they’re swell.”

***

Stiles notices the new girl first. Not just first over Scott, though that kind of thing matters to the bro-code now that they’re both single again. Snapping up the other’s prospects is a douche move. No, Stiles is pretty sure he’s the first of anyone, beyond the administration. She’s just there, silent but present, and Stiles can’t help but notice. Right now he’s noticing everything, and fiddling with anything that’s in reach. In the few weeks it’s been since killing himself for the ability to astral project, his ADHD’s gone through the roof.

Like, through the roof like that episode of Mythbusters where Adam and Jamie test a water heater for internal pressure and it explodes through a two story house.

The only reason he’s not calling his psychiatrist for a dose change is because he’s not sure there’s any point to it. Stiles sees a few different possibilities for why he’s like this. One; he’s unable to focus because he hasn’t been getting much sleep. Two; he’s hyper and unable to focus because he doesn’t want to drift off and have an aforementioned sleep-depriving nightmare in class. Three; everyone’s worst qualities will multiply under the Nemeton’s curse, and having extreme ADHD is going to be his new deal. Four; it’s a coping mechanism, his body giving his brain an issue that’s solvable. Five; his Adderall’s no longer the best fit. Only one of those scenarios comes with a med change doing any good.

Impulsivity is another key factor, so the rational part of him isn’t at all surprised when he bolts across the classroom the moment the bell rings and he sees Kira’s wearing Atomic County leggings. Stiles has seen her in the Marvel ones, and they’re cool, but Atomic County is just the last straw.

“Hi. I’m Stiles. You look really good in those pants.”

“Thanks. Do you just like the way I look, or do you like Atomic County?”

“Is it cheating to say both? Both. I’m gonna go with both. Both is good.” Does she know that’s from The Road to El Dorado? Does she have a Tumblr? She seems like the kind of person to have a Tumblr.

Kira pokes him in the chest. Stiles shivers a little bit, maybe. She’s got bright blue nailpolish on, or at least the finger that poked him was painted blue. Maybe it’s really a rainbow, and he just doesn’t know because he hasn’t scoped out her whole hand. “Fake geek boy... What sport is The Litigator skilled at?”

“Easy. Surfing, duh.” Stiles knows beyond a shadow of a doubt he’s right, there’s a whole arc about it.

Kira makes a face. “Sorry I judged.”

“No, no. I get it. I could have just been a creeper saying a line to get into your pants.” He’s not sure that’s actually called Fake Geek Boy, it seems like it’s just douchy behaviour in general. But it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t apply to him. He’s got at least a hundred bucks of non-comics merch from the Atomic County website. And he paid an extra twenty dollars to get a limited edition issue hundred signed by Seth Cohen.

Kira smirks. “Oh, that would have been fine. I just object to people pretending to know comics.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Stiles’ arms have seceded from his body. They are now doing their own thing to express his excited confusion. The United Parts of Stiles wishes them luck in setting up their own system. “What do you mean, fine?”

“I think the dictionary definition is something that’s satisfactory.”

“It sounds like snark, but you’re smiling. I don’t know what to do with that.” Stiles especially does not know what to do with a girl being cool with the idea of him wanting to mack on her. Lydia and Danny never let him even entertain the thought before they shoot a rocket launcher into his blimp. But he’s going to try really hard to not be a sadsack and say that out loud.

“All I’m saying is there’s a difference between a cute guy and a guy you want to date, and different things happen at different rates with the two categories.”

California girls Stiles’ ass. New York girls are clearly cooler. “Uh. Am I in the category that is you wanna make out for a bit?”

“What are you doing at lunch?”

Keeping Scott from werewolf leaping from table to table across the caf and throwing Isaac against the wall when he attempts to sit with Allison. “Nothing that’s more important than you, your pants, and your general bodily area.”

“Cool. My car’s green and it has a Punky Spitfire bumper sticker from Etsy.” Kira pats him on the shoulder twice and starts walking down the hall. Stiles considers hyperventilating. Instead he bolts for the parking lot, next class and the clock ticking down to it be damned. If he can’t find her car at lunch he’ll kill himself.

***

“I’m too cold to have naked sex today,” Malia says abruptly. Everything she does is abrupt. It’s one of the things Stiles loves about her. Her blunt, mic-drop statements mesh well with his need for frequently changing entertainment.

Stiles looks up from the paragraphs she’s highlighted in red. It’s part of their homework routine now; he skims what she doesn’t get and figures out a better way to explain it to her. It’s not her fault she’s a kinesthetic learner, but he’s done enough research on educational theory to know that the average high school teacher in a Leave No Child Behind system isn’t going to make that a priority. Stiles thought she was grabbing a glass of juice and returning for more studying, but despite the cranberry juice on the bookshelf, what Malia’s actually doing is taking off her fitted hoodie.

“Okay. Sure? I didn’t know we were going to have sex, but no naked sex, sure.”

“Don’t be stupid. We always have sex.”

“This is true.” Since they reconnected after Eichen House, the driest spell Stiles has had is two days. It’s pretty freakin’ sweet, if Stiles says so himself.

“But these are boring.” She plucks at her shirt and jeans. “You’ve already seen me in these. Pick something of yours and I’ll wear it.”

“Now?”

“Unless you don’t want to have sex.”

Fuckin’ perish the thought! Stiles scrambles off his bed to get to the closet. He freezes, hand an inch away from a sleeve, and whirls around. “Is this going to end in me wearing something of yours a week from now?”

“Maybe?” She’s pulling her jeans off now, bucking her hips from side to side to get the tight denim down. One day he’ll film it and turn it into a gifset and play it on endless loop.

Stiles pushes around a few hangers until he finds the long sleeved shirt he had in mind. “Totally worth wearing a camisole and panties.” Not that Malia seems like a camisole kind of girl. The only way it’s possible is if she went lingerie shopping with Kira. Scott’s girl wears enough fishnet that her underwear’s probably all great too.

“Oh, really?” Malia pulls it on, then tugs the hem out to see the design better. “What is it?”

“Merch shirt. It’s the Ironist uniform.”

“Oh. You’ve told me about that. Main character from that comic you and Kira like, right?”

“Well, it’s a big cast. But he’s my favourite. Scott reads it too, actually, he’s just not as big of a fanboy as we are.” He reads each issue, but only at either Stiles or Kira’s house; whoever he hangs out with first after comic release day.

“Well, if you really like him you can not touch my boobs and pretend I’m him.”

Malia has a fairly flat affect -it’s one of the things they’re working on- but Stiles is pretty sure she’s not joking. In which case, Jesusfuck, best girlfriend ever. “Holy shit, roleplaying. I will totally owe you for this. One character of your choice.”

Malia laughs. “What if I want Abe Lincoln?”

“You’re a cruel woman, permanently tainting my childhood history class memories, but I will rent a beard.”

Her stance changes as she puts her hands on her hips. Stiles can practically see the cape flapping in the wind, nevermind that The Ironist doesn’t wear one. “Stiles! Thank you for helping me save the day! I would have never done it without you!”

Awesome.

***

“Explain to me again what’s happening.” It’s not an order from the Sheriff, but it’s not quite a chill Dad question either. Call it a directive from an authority figure.

“I’m on my way to pick up Scott. Malia and Kira are already there. We’re driving to San Francisco, getting a hotel room, and we’ll be back before dinner tomorrow.”

“Because there’s a good theatre? See, I pay attention. Surely there’s 3-d somewhere closer though.”

Stiles shoots finger guns at his dad. “Half points for remembering the word theatre. But it’s not actually a 3-d thing. Atomic County is a highly funded Kickstarter indie movie. It has limited release. It wasn’t going to be in theatres at all, except it made the most money since Lazer Team and industry guys decided to jump on that. The closest release is San Fran.”

“You know the last time you four went on a weekend trip you brought back a fifteen year old Derek Hale and a squad of Berserkers.”

“Yes, but to be fair to us, you should have known better than to think me, Kira, and Lydia Martin would be happy sleeping in a tent. We wear too many layers for a sleeping bag, man. But this is legit. We’re cosplaying and everything, check my bag.”

Stiles gestures to his bag. It’s just his backpack. He’s going as the Ironist, obviously, which doesn’t require him bringing much. Just a red t-shirt with a yellow star, a long sleeved undershirt, and a curling iron so he can curl his hair. Scott’s gonna have even less, Johnny Tears only requires a grey t-shirt. It’s the girls who are going all out as Little Miss Vixen and Punky Spitfire. Stiles has no idea how Kira will walk in knee high chunky heeled boots, but there’s no question she’ll look good in the black bra top and short shorts. Scott is a lucky guy. Not that Stiles is any less lucky. He’d never realised he was attracted to the Rainbow Brite look until Malia put on her suspenders and knitted armwarmers for the first time.

“Also, I totally swear Derek’s at home. You can call him if you want. He won’t answer because he’s an anti-social tool, and not in the fun way like Malia, but you could try. And I promise, no Aztec temples buried under churches in destroyed towns. No shenanigans.”

Okay, maybe a _little_ shenanigans, Stiles has to admit six hours later. In honor of Seth’s inspiration Kira made some weed brownies, and unless the weres are faking it, weed actually hits the spot, unlike alcohol. Stiles doesn’t regret eating some. He knows weed has a longer half-life when you eat it, but they’ve got three hours to get into costume and get to the theatre, and another two beyond that to stand in line. Other people are no doubt already waiting, but no one in this group is picky about seat placement, or breaking up if necessary.

He’s not quite sure how he goes from helping Malia prep her Punky Spitfire wig to making out with her. Probably the way every other event in his life caps with making out with her. Sexy girlfriends just sort of _happen_. At least he’s responsible enough to get the wig back on the styrofoam head before they recline to their sides to make out. Malia will be pissed later if it’s matted.

It’s around the time that Stiles is pushing his hand into her unzipped jeans that he remembers they’re not the only couple in the room. Mainly because Scott groans. An arched head lets him see Scott and Kira on the other bed, hands in roughly the same places. 

Part of Stiles’ brain tells him that this is weird, this should be weird. But why, really? He’s seen everyone in this room orgasm. Malia and Kira share a locker room, and they slutty dance all the time. The only one without a sexual connection of some kind is Malia and Scott, and he’s mostly her Alpha, is in every way except siring her, so there’s still a frisson of sorts there.

Stiles drops his head back onto the starched pillow and crooks his fingers into Malia. She squirms down the bed into his touch and grips his balls tighter, just on the right side of pain. Stiles chokes out her name, and is rewarded with Kira saying Scott’s. Happy crowd all around, then.

***

Stiles hisses in displeasure when Scott uses every ounce of werewolf skill to ease the thick double doors open without making a sound and reveals that there are no seats left. It’s like being punished for being a great cosplayer. They got delayed half a dozen times by impressed fellow fans wanting pictures, and they had fun posing for each one. Kira even showed off her sword wielding skills a bit to advertise for her Battle Axe panel Sunday morning. But they clearly lost track of time, because the Talk To The Creators panel is already underway.

Stiles will be damned if he lets discomfort stop him from attending. He sneaks in anyway, and leans against the wall, Malia and Scott and Kira filing in beside him. He can sit down when he’s dead.

For a good forty five minutes it’s bliss; Seth and Zach and Monica are funny, both in prepared soundbites and off the top of their head stuff. There’s also a minimum of dumb questions. Of course, the streak has to end some time. A girl in an Ice Queen costume -dressing as a secondary character means she’s a real fan, which means she should be smarter- asks “Is there anything in the comics inspired by your real lives?”

Count Stiles as first in a line of four sets of rolled eyes. He wouldn’t be surprised if half the seated fans were. Everyone who’s ever wikied Zach knows he played water sports in high school, leading to Scott’s character Demonic Water Polo Player. 

But it’s Seth who leans forward into his mic. “I planned on doing this this weekend. I just wasn’t sure how. I thought maybe for the podcast? But what the hell. You guys know Battle Axe and Cosmogirl and Little Miss Vixen?”

Stiles is one of hundreds cheering. The emergency soul binding leading to an overspill of feelings and love triangles eventually solved by polyamory is easily Stiles’ second favourite plot arc. Only The Ironist vs The Industrialist arc from issue thirty four to thirty eight ranks higher. Stiles has sort of a tender spot for unpowered kids getting kidnapped by asshole old men.

“Well I’m gonna be honest with you guys. In March it’ll be the four year anniversary of my and Ryan and Kayla’s relationship.”

Stunned silence for a second, then the crowd cheers their approval. Everyone except Stiles, because he’s too busy thinking. And then he stops. He knows what to do. 

He grabs the two nearest arms -Malia and Kira- and hauls them into the hallway. He’s lucky they choose to come with, because they’re both strong enough to dislocate his arm, if they wanted. Scott follows, making sure the door doesn’t slam. Not that the fans inside would notice. Everyone’s shouting, the questions queue has fallen to shit.

“Stiles, what?” Malia asks irritably, tugging her striped armwarmer back up to her elbow.

“It took me over an hour to draw all those tattoos on Kira,” Scott groans. Stiles looks at his hand. Sure enough, it’s smeared with all the colours he’s destroyed on Battle Axe’s left arm. He’d apologise, but he’s got other things on his mind. Important things. Change your life things.

“Look. Four years. They were brothery best friends before, but it still worked. People get married for less than four- and. He seemed happy, and-” God, he’s fucking this up. Why is his stupid brain and stupid mouth fucking this up? He needs to get this right, or at least close enough to right for them to understand. “It’s possible without creepy fundamentalism. And not in a comic. In real life. I can’t know that and not do something, not at least just ask. Do you guys-”

“Feel the same?” Kira finishes.

Stiles thinks back to junior year, the way she fooled around with him but took ages to even kiss Scott, her line in the sand between sex and love. If this is love too, will it be months before he can touch her?

“The Pack-” Scott starts.

“I’m sure Liam and Derek won’t feel alienated.” Stiles rushes. Not that he cares. His friction with Liam has never quite gone away, even knowing his Tragic Backstory (tm). And Derek is a grown ass man. He can handle people falling in love.

Malia is the one who reacts physically, surprising Stiles not one whit. She looks at him for a second before stepping forward and kissing Scott. In terms of cosplay it’s a disaster, her bubblegum pink lipstick against the heavy application of red face paint and lip gloss. In terms of a new beginning it’s pretty goddamn great. God bless Seth Cohen. Seriously.


End file.
